


More than Just Genetics

by Metal_Chocobo



Category: Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated (TV 2010)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Kid Fic, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8715163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Chocobo/pseuds/Metal_Chocobo
Summary: Marcie comes home to a sick kid and an exhausted wife.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This concept's been bouncing around my head for a few months now, so I finally it down.

Marcie groaned as she shook off soggy boots in the kitchen. She couldn’t have been outside for more than five minutes running in and out of the drug store, yet she was completely soaked from the rain. If she weren’t exhausted from a long day, Marcie would head back out to the garage with a towel to dry off the car seat, but at this point she’d leave that for tomorrow. She already knew she’d regret that decision in the morning.

None of the lights were on downstairs, which meant the day must have been rough on Velma as well. Otherwise she’d be waiting for her with a towel on a night like this. Her wife was nothing if not practical and typically neither of them would have retired this early. Even if she were too busy to be waiting for Marcie, Velma would have at least left a light on for her, unless she had fallen asleep before sunset. This did not bode well for Marcie’s chances of finding dinner ready and waiting for her.

She opened the fridge and peered inside. There was a half full pot of chicken noodle soup, but Marcie ignored that in favor of some cold cuts. She stuffed a few slices of salami in her mouth and grabbed a juice box. It wasn’t much of a meal, but it would suffice for the moment. She wanted to get upstairs and check on her family. So she grabbed the plastic shopping bag off the counter, where she had dropped it minutes before, and padded up the stairs, turning lights on and off as she progressed through the house.

The upstairs was almost as dark as the downstairs, but Marcie could see dim light emanating from the master bedroom. She pushed open the bedroom door. Velma was in bed with her eyes shut, but she’d left her bedside lamp on. When she reached the bed Marcie crawled onto her side. She leaned over Velma and gently kissed her forehead. Velma’s eyes opened immediately and a lazy smile spread across her face when she recognized Marcie.

“Rough day?” Marcie asked.

“You have no idea,” Velma replied. “You know that little rash Austin had yesterday? Turns out he’s got chicken pox. I took the day off as soon as I saw the spots, but we went to the pediatrician for confirmation.”

Marcie glanced down at their little boy curled up against Velma’s side. She could see the blistering spots on his sleeping face. He must be feeling pretty miserable to be asleep in their bed.

“I can see why you had me stop for supplies,” Marcie said, stroking Austin’s forehead. “I thought we got him vaccinated.”

“We did. He must be part of the small minority where the vaccination doesn’t take,” Velma sighed. “I got a booster while we were there. You should probably get one too, I don’t want either of us getting it as well.”

“At least the symptoms only last a week?”

“But what a week it’s going to be,” Velma groaned. “He kept scratching the spots and ripping them open every time I turned my back. I’ve already used up all our calamine lotion and I’m worried he’s going to develop an infection. Then when I tried giving him a bath with oatmeal in it, since that supposedly helps with the itching, he tried eating the flakes.”

“Is that why he’s got socks on his hands?” Marcie asked. At Velma’s nod she sighed. “Okay, I think we still have a pack or two of those cheap stretchy gloves left in the hall closet. Do you want me to go look? They ought to work better than those socks and he can’t possibly lose all of them while he’s confined to the house.”

“Please.”

So Marcie got back up. On her way down the stairs she nearly tripped over their tuxedo cat, Oreo, and the near fall left her cursing all the way to the closet. It turned out that the light bulb in the hall closet was burnt out. She ended up digging through not only Austin’s winter coat pockets, but also a couple of boxes for the pack of gloves in the dark. Eventually she found them and proudly carried her prize back up to her family. Velma even softly clapped when Marcie presented them to her.

However, she still made Marcie wrestle the gloves onto Austin’s hands. The worst part was that he woke just as Marcie finished adjusting the second glove, which invalidated her putting them on him while he slept in the first place. He was still little, but he had enough hand-eye motor coordination to pull on stretchy gloves.

“Mama,” he said, blinking up at her.

“Hey buddy,” Marcie greeted him. She automatically felt his forehead, which was hot, but not unbearably so. “How are you feeling?”

“Scratchy,” Austin said. “I need to itch all over.”

“Austin, you can’t scratch your spots, even if they’re itchy,” Velma said, grabbing his hands before he could pull off his gloves. “It will take longer for them to go away if you do that.”

“But Mom!” Austin whined. He struggled to get out of her grip, but Velma held firm. “Everything itches!”

“Let’s get you some antihistamines. That should help with the scratching,” Marcie said. “More Tylenol would be good too. Are you hungry?”

Austin made a groaning noise. Figuring Velma’s patience wouldn’t last long enough for her to fetch a drink from the kitchen, Marcie cracked open the bottle of Sprite she’d bought when picking up more Benadryl, Tylenol, and lotion. She helped him swig a mouthful and popped the pills into his mouth before he could swallow. As soon as they were sure the pills had gone down, Velma grabbed the Sprite and chugged half of it before offering it to Marcie. In less than a minute Austin’s forceful struggling turned into typical 5-year-old restlessness. It was obviously the placebo effect, but Marcie was grateful for it. 

“Shall I heat up some of that soup?” Marcie offered. “That shouldn’t hurt your throat, Austin.”

“I’ll get it,” Velma said, climbing out of bed.

“You sure?” Marcie asked.

“Oh yes. I need to stretch my legs, but thank you for the offer.” Velma cupped Marcie’s cheek and kissed her before running a hand through her hair. They ignored Austin’s groan like they did whenever displaying affection in front of him. “You need a towel; your hair’s wet.”

“I know. It’s raining cats and dogs.”

“Does that mean we can get another cat?” Austin asked.

“No buddy, it means I have to feed the one we have,” Velma said, lightly tapping him on the nose. She fetched a towel for Marcie before heading downstairs.

While they waited for Velma to return, Marcie toweled off and changed into her pajamas. Normally she wouldn’t bother at this hour, but it was clear they were spending the evening in bed. As soon as she climbed into bed Austin curled up against her. Marcie hugged him back tightly. He had to be feeling crummy if he wanted to cuddle.

Velma brought back three bowls of chicken noodle soup and cups of tea for the adults. Austin fell asleep again before he could finish his bowl. Not wanting to go back downstairs, Marcie finished it for him. Since Austin was still firmly latched on, Velma brought Marcie her toothbrush and a cup before brushing her own teeth. Velma then brought Marcie her sleep apnea retainer before climbing into bed.

“It’s a shame he had to get sick now,” Marcie said, glaring at her retainer. She hated wearing the stupid thing, but Velma insisted on the grounds that she didn’t want Marcie to stop breathing and die in her sleep. It also kept her from snoring.

“It could be worse, he could have developed it during our trip to New Orleans,” Velma pointed out.

“And he could have gotten it right before the trip, so we didn’t have to go,” Marcie grumbled.

“You know, you don’t have to come along,” Velma said gently. “I know how much you hate seeing Beau.”

“I just don’t see why we always have to go to him. Why can’t he ever come up here?” Marcie hissed, careful to keep her voice down. The last thing Austin needed was to wake hearing his moms argue about his father.

“Because it’s a lot easier for me to travel with my job than it is for him,” Velma patiently reminded her. “And I’m fairly certain Austin’s grandma would stab me to death with her knitting needles then sue for custody if I denied her his annual visit.”

“I just hate how we always end up in his city where he’s a big shot police detective. Everyone spends the whole trip reminding you what you missed out on when you didn’t marry him and they make a big deal about what a great dad he is,” Marcie admitted. “Being a parent is more than just genetics.”

“I know that.”

“He’s not here taking care of Austin when he’s sick, or comforting him when he wakes up from a nightmare, or attending the unending cycle of birthday parties,” Marcie continued. She could feel her eye throb at the mention of the dreaded B word. The last party she had been trapped at lasted almost six hours and featured the entire kindergarten class high on cake and pixie sticks. “Beau isn’t a dad, he’s a father at best. Genetic contributor would be more accurate terminology.”

“Oh, Beau is his father,” Velma sighed. They were rehashing the same stupid argument they had every year in the weeks leading up to their Louisiana visit and on father’s day. “He always pays his child support on time and sends presents for Austin’s birthday and Christmas. If you weren’t so unwilling to hear about him, you’d know he practically memorizes everything I send him about Austin.”

Marcie growled, but she didn’t say anything else disparaging. She made a point not to monitor any of Velma’s communications with Beau Neville. She knew that if she started, she’d be wire tapping Velma’s phone within a week’s time, which was exactly the sort of paranoid jealousy that would drive her away. Marcie feared Velma leaving her over her jealousy far more than any sort of seduction Beau could put on with his muscles, square jaw, and competent policing. That was what drove her away before.

Velma might enjoy those traits in a man, but she loved Marcie. Velma was her girl. She’d married Marcie. She was raising her son, their son, with Marcie. And Marcie would do anything to keep her family intact. Marcie still remembered how furious she had been first time she held Austin. Velma had refused to call her when she went into labor because Marcie was about to defend her dissertation. She hadn’t wanted to distract her best friend on her most academically important day. When Marcie found out later she shouted something to the effect that she didn’t care a whit about her defense when Velma was giving birth. At least the baby had calmed her down. She had never wanted to let him go and proposed on the spot. While Velma had laughed in her face at the time, they were married not a year and a half later.

Marcie always felt smug when she thought about that.

“You know we always manage to have fun on our New Orleans trip. Austin spends most of the trip with his father or grandmother, which means we actually get time to ourselves. I think I’ve been on more dates with you in Louisiana than we’ve gone on at home. It’s always a fun vacation,” Velma said. “Though, I must admit, if I had to do it over again, I’d rather Austin’s father lived in a more temperate climate. Hmm… Canadian citizenship might have been nice. I’ll have to keep that in mind if we ever decide to have more kids.”

“Now you’re just teasing me,” Marcie grumped.

“I am,” Velma agreed. She wrapped her arms around Marcie and pulled her close for several kisses. This slightly mollified Marcie. “You know you have nothing to worry about.”

“No?”

“I never had the slightest inclination to marry Beau Neville and I think the only time he had a flitter of matrimonial intent toward me was when I first told about Austin,” Velma said. She leaned her head against Marcie’s shoulder and snuggled into her as best she could with a sleeping child lying between them. “We were a bad match. The entire relationship only lasted a few months and was rocky at the best of times. He was so surly and the fact I met him while traveling with the gang didn’t help. It was almost two months after we broke up that I realized I was pregnant.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No. It’s simply the truth,” Velma said. “What should make you feel better is remembering that I think you’re an amazing mother and partner. I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t. For what it’s worth, Beau also thinks you’re a great mom and, while he wasn’t thrilled to hear about you when I first told him about our engagement, he’s come around on you since then.”

“I’m so thrilled to hear it,” Marcie said flatly. However, she had to admit it was nice hearing that the one person who could most easily take her kid away from her if anything ever happened to Velma acknowledged her parenting skills. Velma had done her best ensuring Marcie received custody if she were incapacitated, or heaven forbid died, but Beau could fight that in court if he were really motivated.

“Marcie,” Velma groaned, rolling her eyes. “You know Austin and I aren’t going anywhere, right? Except maybe back to the doctor.”

“I know,” Marcie admitted. Velma hugged her. “And I know it’s entirely irrational, but thinking about Beau always reminds me that we broke up in high school and it took a decade to get you back. You nearly married that Egyptian prince.”

“That title was purely honorary and we never dated.”

“But… Daphne said…”

“Daphne wasn’t at the six month dig. We were friends, good ones, and maybe we could have ended up dating, but he had a very nice boyfriend in Cairo,” Velma said tartly. Marcie laughed sheepishly. “As for Winsor—who I’m certain Daphne also told you about and you’ve been fretting over his eventual parole date—I only liked him because he looked like you with a haircut and he was competent at his job, even if he tried to steal a priceless dinosaur fossil and blow up a town. Reading some of his published articles, which were shoddily constructed and full of faulty leaps in logic, killed whatever ardor I still had for him after sentencing.”

“I always forget how susceptible you are to evil geniuses.”

“What can I say? I have a weakness for competency, though I prefer them working for good,” Velma grinned. “Why do you think I married the most competent person I know?”

“Aww shucks, V.”

“Now get some sleep, Marcie. If this day’s been anything to go by, Austin’s going to wake up in two hours itching like crazy and it’s your turn keeping him from scratching his spots open. I found applying the calamine lotion to the spots with a Q-tip is the only way to keep him from getting as slippery as an oiled pig when you try to relieve the itching.”

“Oh great,” Marcie groaned, but she kissed her wife and settled in for the night.

Velma’s prediction was right and Marcie woke to a crying bloody five-year-old a couple hours later. As soon as she was sure Marcie had things well in hand, Velma went back to sleep. Marcie gave him another bath and painted his spots pink before putting him to bed in his own room. She hoped the cool sheets would help soothe Austin’s skin. In the end she not only read him a story, but also promised him ice cream for breakfast if he could keep his gloves on and not rip open his pox marks. Only then Marcie was finally free to return to bed and Velma. She was asleep as soon as she hit the sheets.


End file.
